An Egg-Nog and a Telegram

I was aghast.

"Here!" I said. "Surely you are mistaken, Mr. Harton. I should think,
after--what happened here only a few days ago, she would never wish to
come back."

"Nevertheless," he replied, "she is most anxious to come. This is what
she says. 'Use every possible means to have Sunnyside vacated. Must
go there at once.'"

"Mr. Harton," I said testily, "I am not going to do anything of the
kind. I and mine have suffered enough at the hands of this family. I
rented the house at an exorbitant figure and I have moved out here for
the summer. My city home is dismantled and in the hands of decorators.
I have been here one week, during which I have had not a single night
of uninterrupted sleep, and I intend to stay until I have recuperated.
Moreover, if Mr. Armstrong died insolvent, as I believe was the case,
his widow ought to be glad to be rid of so expensive a piece of
property."

The lawyer cleared his throat.

"I am very sorry you have made this decision," he said. "Miss Innes,
Mrs. Fitzhugh tells me Louise Armstrong is with you."

"She is."

"Has she been informed of this--double bereavement?"

"Not yet," I said. "She has been very ill; perhaps to-night she can be
told."

"It is very sad; very sad," he said. "I have a telegram for her, Mrs.
Innes. Shall I send it out?"

"Better open it and read it to me," I suggested. "If it is important,
that will save time."